In Time
by capercailiechild
Summary: Sequel-and-a-half to "Reverie." Syd and Vaughn's daughter is a friendless hacker. Can she make her mother proud but not be kidnapped by her renegade father?
1. Default Chapter

"Mom!" Julia yelled, her fingers aching from the death grip she had on the balcony's iron railing. Her feet dangled precariously over the edge, a forty-foot drop to a road below. "Mom!"

Someone was coming through the room, fast-paced. Shots were exchanged. Julia held her breath and tried not to look down. "Come on, Mom," she whispered.

More shots, and a chunk of plaster was ripped off the column closest to Julia. It fell, gashing open her leg from knee to ankle. She fidgeted restlessly, her fingers anchored around the railing.

A figure burst out onto the balcony. Julia looked up, surprised at the dark-clothed figure who appeared.

"Dad?"


	2. Scarred, Genius, Freak of a Daughter

36 Hours Previous… 

Arvin Sloane rested his elbows on the edge of his massive desk. He peered across at the teenage girl sitting opposite him. She had light brown hair and hazel eyes, and wore a bemused expression. "Ms. Bristow," Arvin said, "I understand you've been asked to stay here while your mother goes to Moldavia."

The girl shrugged. "I guess so."

"So, Ms. Bristow, while…"

"Julia. My name is Julia."

"Julia Irina. I know." Arvin smiled, a little sadly. "Anyway, Agent Mariel Hemingway will be showing you around."  
"I know my way around, Mr. Sloane," Julia said. "Marshall showed me around when I was here last time."

Arvin took a sip of water from his cut glass carafe. "Very well, but Agent Hemingway has been assigned to you."

The door to Arvin's office opened, and a honey-blond woman approached his desk. She was lithe and trim, clad in a sharply tailored green tweed suit. Her high heels clicked authoritatively as she smartly crossed the floor to the desk. Julia surmised this was Agent Mariel Hemingway.

"Agent Hemingway, I'd like you to meet Julia Bristow," Arvin said. Julia rolled her eyes, slumping in the richly upholstered chair.

"_You're_ Agent Bristow's daughter?" the woman asked.

Julia took a deep breath and tried to ignore the woman.

"I have a briefing," Arvin said. "I'll leave you to get acquainted." He left the office, the door closing softly behind him.

Julia stood up, grabbing her canvas backpack. "I'm going to hang out with Marshall. You don't need to follow me."

Agent Hemingway said nothing, but the look of shock on her face gave Julia a sort of twisted pleasure as she left Arvin's office and turned down the hallway to where Marshall J. Flinkman's spacious office was.

Marshall was at his desk, studiously hacking something while salsa music blared. "Hey, Julia!" he said excitedly as soon as she realized he was there. "I have something for you. Well, two somethings, actually."

"What is it?" she asked, smiling at the man.

He fished into his pocket, and came out with two things – a pink gum eraser and a bracelet. "The eraser's really a microphone. And the bracelet, well, it's just a bracelet, but it was really pretty, so I thought you'd like it."

Julia accepted the two gifts readily, tucking the eraser into the front pocket of her backpack and slipping the bracelet around her wrist. "What're you doing today?" she asked.

Marshall shrugged offhandedly. "Not much, I guess. Why are you here?"

"Mom's going to Moldavia," Julia said dryly. "And I'm here, in the safekeeping of Agent Mariel Hemingway."

Marshall snorted. "Isn't she hilarious?"  
"I'm sure she's selling tickets to the other agents," Julia said. "Come see Agent Bristow's scarred, genius, freak of a daughter!"

Marshall laughed, if a little nervously. Then he said, looking down the hall, "Your mom and Arvin – I mean, Mr. Sloane – are coming. Here, hide in the closet."

Julia dove into the closet, tugging the steel door shut after her. She heard the door to Marshall's office open, then close. Then her mother said, "Marshall, something's come up."

"Uh… what is it?" Marshall asked, attempting to sound normal.

"We've discovered that Pyoter Ovganova has recently installed a fourth security program on the server, one created by the Rambaldi seekers known as the Society of the Fifth," Sydney said.

"What is it?" Marshall repeated.

"A mock-up of the system is on this disk," Arvin said.

There was silence for a moment. Julia inched her way forward until she could peer through the slats in the door. Marshall had a horrified expression on his face. "I… I can't hack this," he said at last.

"You can't?" Arvin and Sydney said as one. Arvin continued, "Who can?'

Marshall paused. Then he said, "Julia could."

In surprised, Julia tumbled out of the closet.


	3. And Where is Gregor Waters?

"This is highly extraordinary," a man was saying as Julia came into her mother's office. She thought she recognized the voice, and she was correct.

"Grandpa!" she said excitedly.

Jack Bristow stood and stiffly embraced his granddaughter. "Hello, sweetheart," he said awkwardly.

Julia took a seat next to Jack's and across from her mother. Sydney's face was pale and she nervously pressed her fingertips together, steepled on the desk. "It may be extraordinary, but that doesn't change the fact that this is a dangerous op. Pyoter Ovganova is a dangerous man. And Julia is sixteen, and still recovering from the fire."

Jack shifted in his chair. "She's a smart, responsible girl, Sydney. If you and Dixon keep an eye on her –…"

"That's not the point! She is _not_ an agent, and this seems to be a stupid move to me! Why involve a child in this?" Sydney asked.

"She is the only one besides Gregor Waters who can hack this system. I asked Sloane."

"And? Where is Gregor Waters?"

"Dead," Jack said, sharply. "India, last year."

Sydney sighed. Julia glanced from her mother to her grandfather, hoping her grandfather was right. She had no aspirations to be an agent, but even hacking a computer system had to be more exciting than being stared at by Agent Hemingway. "Mom?"

"Julia, not a word," Sydney said sharply. She was staring dead on at Jack. "This isn't Dixon's operation, Dad. It's Weiss's. Dixon and Marshall are going on the op strictly for op-tech and backup."

"Weiss is fully capable," Jack said. "If you don't allow Julia to do this, you will lose your chance at Ovganova's system and your chance at the Kaplon Archives. You've been planning this for six months. This is your _one shot_."

Sydney sighed and leaned back in her chair, staring at the ceiling. She said nothing for awhile. Julia picked at her thumbnail and stared at her Teletubbies shoelaces. Then her mother said, "Well, against my better judgment, I guess we have no choice."

Julia forced herself to stay in the chair, despite the excitement exploding inside her. She smiled at Jack.

"We have a briefing in twenty minutes," Jack said, not returning her smile. "I'm going to get some coffee."

He left the office, and Sydney stared at Julia. "I hope you're ready for this," her mother said. "It's not going to be a cakewalk."

Julia couldn't think of anything else to say. She had always wanted her mother's approval. She was desperate for it. Now she had a chance to get it. No matter how dangerous it was, she was going to try her best.


	4. A RollerSkating Party?

Weiss, Dixon, Nadia, and Jack were already in the briefing room when Sydney and Julia arrived. Sloane followed them in, and Marshall ran in a few minutes later.

Julia slid into a seat next to Nadia. "Hi, Aunt Nadia," she whispered.

Nadia smiled at her niece. "Hi, love. How are you?"

"Ahem," Sloane said, interrupting their conversation. Both Julia and Nadia snapped to attention. "As you know, we have discovered the location of Pyoter Ovganova's stronghold in the province of Allerbie, Moldavia." He pushed a button on his remote, and pictures of Ovganova and his warehouse / residence in Moldavia appeared on the screen. "We will be infiltrating Ovganova's stronghold by various means. Nadia, you and Dixon will be attending a party held by Ovganova's wife Nathalia." He slid two maroon folders across the table to him.

Dixon flipped open his folder. "A _roller-skating_ party?"

Julia tried not to grin.

"You will drug Ovganova's cocktail – he prefers something called a Triple Alligator – and retrieve his key card to access the server room at the warehouse," Sloane said, apparently ignoring Dixon. "You will bring the key card back to Sydney, Weiss, and Julia, who will be waiting to enter the warehouse. You will enter the server room, hack the server to determine the location of the Kaplon Archives and steal Ovganova's laser-tracking device."

Marshall raised his hand a little nervously. "Uh… Mr. Sloane?"

"Yes, Marshall?"

"Ovganova's… um… laser-tracking device has a, uh, limited time span. It's really quite ingenious, something I wouldn't have minded creating myself, you know, if I was in this for evil, but -…"

"Marshall!"

"I mean, you'll have to use it almost immediately to find the Scharpinsky Scrolls." He dug into his pocket and came out with a large blue fountain pen. "See, this pen's ink is created especially for the Archives. It will extend the life of the tracking device to maybe an hour. So don't fire the tracking device until you're actually _in_ the Archives. Otherwise, you know, it could shut off and you'd be lost in there and then, you know –…"

"Thank you, Marshall," Sloan said smoothly. "You leave tomorrow. Sydney, go over the blueprints of the building with Julia. That's all."


	5. And Maybe if This Goes Well

"Your mom doesn't want you going because she's afraid for you," Nadia said.

Julia slurped her orange pop and grimaced. "Well, it's already been proven that I can't die, so she hasn't got much to worry about." She picked restlessly at the burn scar on her wrist.

Nadia sighed. "She loves you too much to lose you. There's so many things that could go wrong. You just survived a house fire. That's a big deal, Julia." She hugged her niece tightly. "I'm sure you'll do fine."

"I hope so. Aunt Nadia, so do you think Mom will be proud of me if I do well?"

"Julia, your mom is already so proud of you," Nadia replied. "What makes you think she isn't?"

Julia shrugged. "I don't know. She just doesn't seem to care about me anymore."

"That's not true. She loves you. And maybe if this goes well, you'll think so, too."

Julia lay in bed, staring at the ceiling. After the fire, they'd been relocated to an apartment. The house would be as good as new in a few weeks, but until then, they remained in the small, cluttered apartment.

She lay there, the room quiet with Glenn Miller playing in the background. Headlights flashed outside her window, then went dark.

Her mother was asleep already; a creature of habit, she had retired around 10:30, after the local news.

Julia rubbed her scarred arm and thought about the upcoming day's work. They system was like nothing she'd ever seen, but she could hack it. She could do it in four minutes flat, using 271 keystrokes. Marshall had timed her.

At last a worried sleep took her.

Outside her window, the man in black lowered his binoculars and jotted a note on his paper.


	6. I Believe it's Called Puce

The flight to Moldavia lasted seven hours. Julia and Marshall went over and over the security program. Sydney and Weiss looked over blueprints and drew maps. Dixon and Nadia prepared for their aliases, Pierre and Anastasia Volkryod, wealthy business owners from southern Spain. They would be attending Nathalia Ovganova's "Roller-Skating to the Oldies" party that evening.

At last Sydney looked up from the blueprints and saw how pale her daughter was. "Marshall, that's enough. Julia needs to rest up for tonight."

Julia closed her eyes gratefully, and Sydney shifted in her seat until she could gently smooth her daughter's hair. "You're going to do just fine," she murmured, although Julia was fast asleep.

They landed at five-thirty in the province of Allerbie. Dixon and Nadia left to attend the party. The rest of the team parked outside the warehouse and waited.

"All right, we're got a visual on Ovganova," Dixon murmured as he approached the man, who was tall and balding in a polyester leisure suit.

"Ouch," Weiss murmured. "What color is that?"

"I believe it's called puce," Marshall said helpfully, his eyes locked on the video screen.

As they watched, Dixon slipped a drug into Ovganova's Triple Alligator while Nadia distracted him, skating with the man to "Pinball Wizard." They finished skating, Ovganova took a sip, and immediately fell to the floor, clutching his heart.

Sydney glanced at Julia. The teenager sat against the farthest wall of the van, looking fairly calm. She did not appear to be worried about the events occurring on the video monitor. Her fingers were moving, and Sydney surmised she was practicing the key sequence.

"Got the key card," Nadia said. "Heading your way."

A few breathless minutes later, Nadia and Dixon came running around the corner and ducked into the van. Nadia reached into her gold evening bag and pulled out the key card, which she handed to Sydney. Dixon swung into the van beside Marshall, who was busily hacking into the warehouse security camera feed. "You're clear for four minutes, starting…" He hit a key. "Now."

The spies leapt from the van and darted for the warehouse's steel doors. The key card in Sydney's hand opened the doors smoothly, and they were inside.

"Keep Julia between us," Sydney ordered Weiss. "Julia, be prepared to run."

The teenager nodded nervously. "Okay."

Weiss led the way down a long corridor to a small, starkly white room at the far end. It took a harried moment of lock-picking, but the door swung inward and Julia came face-to-face with the largest computer system she'd ever seen.

"Okay, honey," Sydney said tersely, her eyes alert for enemies. "You get four minutes, no more."

Julia sat down at the computer, flexed her fingers, and closed her eyes. Unbidden, an image of her father floated into her mind.

"Julia? Now, honey."

Julia started at the sound of her mother's voice, her fingers leaping instinctively to the key. She took a deep breath and began to type.

Sydney looked at Weiss, who was glancing around nervously. He checked his watch.

Julia's fingers flew over the keys. The computer beeped and whirred, responding to her commands. She took a deep breath and tapped the keys furiously. Then the computer beeped three times in rapid succession, and Julia's eyes grew wide. "How long?" she asked.

Weiss checked his watch again. "Three-seventeen."

Julia smiled and scooted back from the computer.

Sydney and Weiss leaned over, breathless. On the screen was the map to the Kaplon Archives. Sydney memorized it instantly, but just to be safe, she hit "print" and a copy of the map scrolled out of the oversized printer. "Here," she said to Julia. "Put this in the lining of your coat."

Julia looked confused. Sydney reached for the dark blue jacket her daughter wore and fumbled with the lining. In a few seconds, she had unzipped a pocket in the inside of her coat and stuffed the map into it. "Let's go."

They exited the stark white computer lab and headed for the stairwell at the far end of the west corridor. Gunshots rang out as they rounded the corner and voices yelled in Moldavian, which to Julia's ears sounded like German. "Mom?" she asked worriedly.

"Come on, Julia," Weiss said from behind her, drawing his gun.

Sydney's eyes darted around wildly. "Julia, I want you to run down the hallway to your left. Get outside and find the others."

A man appeared at the end of the hallway. He shouted something in Moldavian and two more appeared.

"Julia. _Now_." Sydney's voice was firm.

"Go on," Weiss murmured.

Julia ducked into the hallway and ran, her feet pounding the ground. She could see a door at the end of the hall, and, hands outstretched, she moved towards it. Before she could get there, the door was yanked open from the outside. Julia gasped and half-turned, prepared to run in the opposite direction.

"Nightingale!" a voice said.

Julia looked back at the doorway. It was Dixon. Of course it was Dixon, she thought. Who else would know her code name? "Come on," Dixon said, and grabbed her, propelling her towards the door.

"But… Mom," she managed to say.

"They'll be fine," Dixon assured her.

Once out in the night air, Julia's eyes adjusted to the darkness. Dixon threw open the van's door and she blinked at the bright light.

"Hey, kiddo," Nadia said. "How'd you do?"

Julia smiled, a little dazed. "Good, I think."

Dixon slammed the door. "Phoenix, what is your position?"

"Heading for the south exit. Rendezvous in three minutes."

Dixon started the van. "Hang on, guys."

"Hey, hey, hey, Julia," Marshall said. "Did it… did it go okay?"

Julia closed her eyes and saw her father again. "Yeah," she said, but her voice sounded very far away.

"Hey, kiddo," Nadia said, but her voice sounded like it was coming form the end of a train tunnel.

Julia hazily tried to open her eyes, but a tidal wave of crushing darkness overcame her.


	7. Who Was He Working For?

When she opened her eyes again, her mother was standing over her. "Dad?" she said blearily.

"No, honey," Sydney said in response. "Sit up, okay? We're on our way to a safe house where we're going to leave you while we go after the Scrolls."

Julia sat up, shaking off a last wave of dizziness. "You're okay."

Sydney smiled. "Yes. And so are you."

"We're here," Dixon said.

Julia peered through the windshield of the van. Night had been replaced by day, and the signs were in Polish. "Where are we?"

"Krakow, Poland," Nadia replied.

"Grab your stuff," Sydney said to Julia, who scooped up her backpack.

The safe house was an apartment building, pale red brick with trim white columns and dark red shutters. "We'll be back tonight."

"Okay," Julia said worriedly.

"Don't worry. Agents Hanover and Watson are some of the best around. You'll be fine."

Julia gave her mother one final glance and grabbed the doorknob. When she looked back, the van was gone.

Sighing, she pushed open the door and came face-to-face with a tall, African-American woman with right, curly hair. "Nightingale?" the woman said.

"Agent…?"

"Hanover. Ellie Hanover."

"Julia Bristow."

The agent took Julia by the wrist and pulled her into the apartment. She didn't notice the man in black at the curb, watching her every move.

Inside the apartment, a good-looking man was seated at a video monitor. He looked up at Julia with deep brown eyes. "Hello," he said. "I'm Agent Watson."

Agent Hanover sat down in an overstuffed floral-print chair. "Make yourself comfortable," she said to Julia.

Julia stood awkwardly in the center of the room, taking in the homey décor of the safe house. She didn't know what to do or say. Everything was unfamiliar.

"Honey, sit down," Agent Hanover said.

Julia reluctantly sat down on the floral couch, not bothering to remove her coat or shoes or backpack.

"Perimeter check," Agent Watson said over his com link.

"All clear red team."

"All clear blue team."

"All –…" There was silence, then hissing.

"Green team! Green team, report!" Agent Watson said quickly and urgently. He glanced at Agent Hanover.

The door burst opened. Three heavily armed men ran into the room.

"Run, Julia!" Agent Hanover shouted.

Julia darted up the stairs and turned into a small apartment. She looked around but found nowhere to hide. There was a balcony to her left. Maybe she could stay out there until the danger had passed.

The balcony was obviously not her best choice, she realized seconds later. The wind was blowing fiercely, and the balcony, as her pacing feet found, was only four feet long.

Julia heard gunshots from the hallway. Maybe she should look for somewhere to hide. She grasped the railing tightly, then swung herself off the balcony.

She hung there, hearing gunshots ring out from inside the building. Her fingers were clenched tightly. "Mom!" Julia yelled, her fingers aching from the death grip she had on the balcony's iron railing. Her feet dangled precariously over the edge, a forty-foot drop to a road below. "Mom!"

Someone was coming through the room, fast-paced. Shots were exchanged. Julia held her breath and tried not to look down. "Come on, Mom," she whispered.

More shots, and a chunk of plaster was ripped off the column closest to Julia. It fell, gashing open her leg from knee to ankle. She fidgeted restlessly, her fingers anchored around the railing.

A figure burst out onto the balcony. Julia looked up, surprised at the dark-clothed figure who appeared.

"_Dad?"_

Michael Vaughn, breathing heavily, said, "Come here, Julia."

"I can't let go," Julia said.

He leaned over the balcony, grabbing her canvas backpack. Carefully, he pulled her over the railing. She fell forward, sprawling on the balcony.

"You all right?" Vaughn asked in a tone of voice that made it clear he didn't really want to hear the answer.

"Yeah," Julia breathed. "How's everyone else?"

"Dead. Hanover and Watson are dead," he said sharply.

"So much for being with 'some of the best around,'" Julia muttered sarcastically.

"We've got to go," Vaughn said. He shouted into the apartment. "Douglass! McCoy! I have the package!"

Two other men appeared, one short and stocky with a thatch of blond hair, the other lean looking with piercing eyes. "We've got to get to the Kaplon Archives before they do." He turned to Julia. "Where's the map?"

"What map?" Julia asked automatically. She wasn't sure if she could trust her father. He _had_ just burst into a CIA safe house and killed two agents. Who was he working for? What did he want with the Scrolls?

"You have to have it," Vaughn said in exasperation.

One of the agents, Julia wasn't sure if it was Douglass or McCoy, said, "We've got a lock on the target. It's in the Victorian District."

Vaughn glanced at Julia, who said nothing. Then he said, "Okay. Let's go."

"What about her?" one of the agents asked, jutting his chin at Julia.

"She comes with us," Vaughn said, grabbing Julia and pulling her from the room.

_Please please please please please review!_


	8. Get the Scrolls

Her father's group of super-spies were holed up in an oddly familiar black van. Vaughn greeted the others – there were three in the van – by saying, "We've got them. Let's go."

The driver was a trim, compact Asian man with a goatee. He threw the van into gear as Vaughn slammed the door. He peeled away from the safe house. Julia began to count. It was a trick her mother had taught her for long car journeys or boring classes – see how many times you would fit six or eight or seventeen into the time remaining. She had fit fifty-seven thirties into the journey when the van slowed.

"Here," one of the agents said. "Take her in, we can use her."

Vaughn grabbed Julia and yanked her out of the van. Julia blinked up at a tall black building. She barely had time to notice the landmarks around it before her father dragged her through the steel-and-glass doors and into a black marble foyer. Agents piled in behind them, guns cocked.

Julia took a quick look around. There wasn't anyone else. Was she really trapped?

Vaughn unhooked a walkie-talkie from his webbed nylon belt. He flicked it on, releasing Julia's arm as he did. Without thinking or considering the handful of men with guns behind her, she took off down the hallway.

Shots rang out. Julia shrieked and ducked into a corridor to her left. She ran, ignoring the yells behind her and the pain in her leg from the balcony incident. Suddenly she ran into something solid and was thrown back onto the marble floor.

"Umph!" someone said.

Horrified, Julia looked up at the black-clad figure. Then she said gratefully, "Aunt Nadia!"

"Come on," Nadia said, grasping her niece's arm.

They ran down the hallway, away from the way Julia had come. More shots ran gout as they ran.

At the end of the hallway was a library. Nadia shoved Julia through the door. Julia stopped short, seeing her mother and Weiss at the back of the room. "Mom!" she shouted gratefully.

Sydney looked up. "What the hell are you doing here?"

"Dad's here!" Julia managed to say. "He killed Hanover and Watson!"

Sydney's eyes grew large.

"What do you want to do?" Weiss asked.

"Get the Scrolls," Sydney ordered.

"Who's he working for?" Julia demanded.

"No time, Julia. Give me your backpack."

Julia slipped off the canvas sack and handed it to her mother, who unzipped it and carefully put in several rolls of yellowing parchment. Sydney leaned closed to her daughter and put a gentle hand under Julia's chin. "Hey. Listen to me. You are going to get out of here. You are going to take the Scrolls back to Sloane, okay?"

"I'm not going without you!" Julia said fiercely.

"Julia! Be reasonable. You have to get out of here."

"What does Dad want?" Julia asked.

"You," Sydney said simply. "Now, go. You've got the map, right?'

"I memorized it."

"Dixon's outside the south entrance. How many men are with Dad?"

Julia thought back. "Five. Plus him."

"Thank you, baby." Sydney hugged Julia tightly. "I'll see you back at home."

Julia took a deep breath, then began running.

Dixon looked up in surprise. Julia was hurrying towards the van. Her pants were covered in blood and her hair was streaming out behind her. "Hey!" he said.

"Go!" she gasped, swinging herself into the van. "Drive!"

He did as she asked, heading towards a little-known airstrip south of the town. Julia tried to relax, but she couldn't knowing that her mother and father were involved in a battle over something neither of them had. _She _had it, and she was going to keep it safe.


	9. Are They Still Here?

"Julia. Wake up, okay?"

Julia opened her eyes in an unfamiliar room. It was stark white and country blue, and there were strange shadows all around her. There was an odd beeping noise, and she couldn't focus on who was speaking.

"Hey. Stay with me."

"Mom?" Julia asked blearily.

"No, honey. It's Weiss."

"Weiss? Where's Mom?" she asked thickly.

"In a room two doors over. She got shot."

"_Shot!"_ Julia said, shaking off her stupor.

"It's all right, calm down. She's going to be all right," Weiss said.

"Did Dad shoot her?" Julia asked.

Weiss was silent.

"_Did_ he?"

Weiss nodded.

"But he saved my life," Julia said. "He pulled me off the balcony."

Weiss said, "He had a reason to. You were going to lead him to the Scrolls."

"The Scrolls! Are they still here?"

"Nope, Sloane came to get them. But don't worry, they're safe. You've got to relax. You had forty-some stitched in your leg."

"I want to see Mom," Julia said.

"She's sleeping."

"I want to see her anyway," she said stubbornly.

Weiss sighed. "Let me see if you can go in there."

Within a few moments, he came back, a nurse following him. She brought in a wheelchair and carefully helped Julia into it. They left the small room, a slow processional, and the nurse took Julia into a room only a few yards from her own.

Sydney was lying on a bed, a blue blanket drawn up around her. There was a bandage over her eyebrow and she was pale. Julia rolled up to the bed and took her mother's hand in her own. "Mom," she said. "Mom."

Sydney opened her eyes. "The Scrolls?"

"Weiss says Sloane has them. They're safe."

"Are you okay?"

"I had some stitches. What happened?"

Sydney shrugged. "I was stupid. I got hit."

"Is it bad?"

"No." She smiled. "I'll heal."

Julia sighed. She was suddenly very tired. "Okay," she said.

"Come on," Weiss said. "They're going to take you to Nadia's."

"Bye, Mom," Julia said exhaustedly.

They left, and Sydney closed her eyes.


	10. The Man Saved My Life

Julia slept through the night and on into the next morning. When she awoke, she stiffly pulled herself out of Nadia's guest bed and hobbled towards the kitchen. Nadia and Weiss were seated at the ceramic-topped table, eating eggs and toast.

"Hey," Weiss greeted her.

"Good to see you," Nadia said, smiling affectionately at her niece. "I'll get you some breakfast."

Julia slid into a chair next to Weiss.

"Your mom's being released from the hospital today," Nadia said. "And someone named Finch called here for you?"

"Finch called here?" Julia asked, surprised.

Nadia put a plate of eggs in front of her. "Yes, last night before we got home."

"Who's Finch?" Weiss asked. "A boyfriend?"

Julia grinned through her eggs. "No. _Aimee_ Finch is a fellow hacking buddy from the NOCRS."

"You've got friends at the National Office of Computer Research and Studies?" Weiss asked in surprise.

Julia nodded. "They tried to recruit me last year. They would have paid my college tuition. Mom said no, but Finch still calls me when she's got a big job."

"They pay good?"

"I wouldn't know. I do it cause I like the work."

Weiss ate his final bite of toast. "Well, I'm going to go get Syd. We'll meet you at the office for the briefing."

"Aunt Nadia," Julia said as he closed the back door behind him, "what was my dad doing in Poland?"

Nadia put a plate in the dishwasher. "Well… I don't know if your mother would like me telling you. It's really not my business."

"Come on, Aunt Nadia. Last night the man saved my life but tried to kill my mother. I think I deserve to know." Julia spread jam on a piece of toast and looked up at her aunt.

Nadia sighed, wiped her hands on a dish towel, and sat down at the table. "Right after the fire, your father came to see you."

"He did?"

Nadia nodded. "He got a call from your mother and he came to see you. This was right after the fire, maybe an hour. They got to talking and he let it slip that he was involved with a secret branch of the AOCJ."

"Dad works for the American Office of Civil Justice?"

"He did. But he went renegade about two months later and joined the Society of the Closed Fist, which is based out of…"

"Peru," Julia breathed in awe.

"And they wanted the Scharpinsky Scrolls," Nadia said. "So they sent your father to find you, because the leader of the Society of the Closed Fist, this ex-military guy from Russia called Anton Dovbroyek, discovered Ovganova's security system and knew we'd be forced to bring you into this. Dovbroyek was responsible for the death of Greg Waters, who was…"

"The only other person who could hack the system."

"Exactly." Nadia took a long drink of coffee.

"Why do they want the Scrolls? I mean, why does anyone want them? What's so fantastic about them?"

"I don't know. Rumor has it they're the last great writing about the Chancellov Treasure," Nadia replied. "Besides Mr. Rambaldi, my father has been studying Chancellov more than anything else. He was actually ten days away from recovering the Scrolls when the Office of National Fortitude and Civil Responsibility in Krakow took them from London and removed them to the Kaplon Archives. He didn't want to miss this chance. So we took off."

She stood and put the coffee mug in the dishwasher. "We've got a briefing. Let's go."


	11. Take a Breath, Julia

The office was quiet when they arrived. Nadia led Julia into the briefing room and pulled up a chair for her niece. Grateful for the excuse to rest her leg, Julia slumped into the seat.

Marshall was the next one to arrive, followed by Sloane and Dixon. Weiss and Sydney were the last to enter the room. Sydney was still pale, and she moved stiffly.

"Welcome back," Sloane said when they were all seated. "Our mission to recover the Scharpinsky Scrolls was, although not without its drawbacks, a definite success. We have the Scharpinsky Scrolls and a two-agent team consisting of Mariel Hemingway and Joseph Brockmann are translating them now."

Julia made a face at the mention of Agent Hemingway.

"Now that we have the Scrolls, we will be able to fully cooperate with NOCRS and share Ovganova's security system. Julia, you will be working with Agent Finch to break and decipher the system for the use of NOCRS." Arvin looked expectantly at the door, where a petite blond agent was waiting. "Agent Keppler, is Agent Finch here yet?"

"Yes, sir," the female agent said. "She stopped to talk to Director Findlay."

Within a moment, a well-dressed dark-haired woman in a motorized wheelchair came through the door of the briefing room. Julia's face lit up as she recognized her hacking buddy. "Finch!"

"Hey, Julia," the woman said. To the others she said, "Agents Weiss, Bristow, and Dixon. Howdy, Marshall. And of course, Arvin."

"Pleased to see you," Arvin said, smiling. "Agent Finch, you and Julia can use the secondary conference room."

Julia stood, grabbing her backpack, and led Finch out of the room.

"As for the rest of you, Agents Weiss and Dixon will be keeping surveillance over the Society of the Closed Fist. Agent Bristow, you and Nadia will be remaining here to translate the Scrolls. Any questions?'

"How much do we know about Agent Finch?" Weiss asked.

"She was CIA for twelve years until an enemy sniper forced her to join NOCRS," Sloane said. "She's a good agent. She and Julia have been working together for… a year now, Sydney?"

Sydney nodded.

"Go to work," Sloane said with a smile.

They dispersed, Sydney and Nadia going slowly down the hallway to a research room where two agents were bent over the Scrolls. "Agent Hemingway, Agent Brockmann, how are things going?" Nadia asked.

"Very well!" Agent Brockmann said heartily, peering up at the two women through his thick glasses. "We've done almost all the first Scroll."

Agent Hemingway looked up and recognized Sydney. "You're Julia's mother, aren't you?"

Sydney nodded, her eyes daring Agent Hemingway to say anything else.

"Here, Agent Bristow, why don't you work on the second Scroll," Agent Brockmann suggested.

Sydney complied, taking a seat next to Agent Brockmann. Nadia sat across from them. Within a few moments, all were hard at work.

Down in the conference room, Sloane had stopped in to check on Finch and Julia. Both were typing at great speeds. Julia was speaking almost as rapidly as she was typing. "The system doesn't show any of the particulars of the Kreszny system – remember that one, Latvia, two months ago? – but it's got a back door easily opened with a secondary cross-algorithm and…"

"Take a breath, Julia," Sloane said from the doorway.

Finch laughed. "It's okay. I'll be here for awhile, Julia. You don't have to tell me everything at once."

"How long will you be here?" Julia asked.

"At least two weeks. We just finished the Grosny-Michaelov system, so I've got time to spend on this."

"There's more work to be done," Sloane interjected. "You need to create a working version of this system and prepare it for a sale to Bolivar Lanu at the end of the week."

"Bolivar Lanu," Finch murmured. "Is he still around?"

Sloane nodded. "Unfortunately. And the Blackthorn Contingency has shown interest in buying a copy of the system, because apparently Ovganova uses it on all his warehouses and the storage facility where he is keeping various treatises and books he stole from the Kaplon Archives and the Office of National Fortitude and Civil Responsibility in Moldavia."

"What if we don't sell it to him?" Julia asked.

Sloane through for a moment. "If we don't sell the system to Bolivar Lanu, then we'd have to provide him with a hacker."

"You work with Lanu?" finch asked disbelievingly.

Sloane nodded. "It was a sacrifice we had to make. Lanu has proved to be a valuable ally."

"You'd give him me?" Julia asked suddenly.

Sloane smiled a little warily. "No, of course not."

"_Would_ you?"

"No. We don't have to," Sloane said. "If you're done with the system, we're going to break for lunch."

He left and Finch rolled away from the computer. "Why aren't you at school? It's Monday, after all."

"No school today. Teacher conferences." Julia frowned. "I forgot to tell Mom."

Finch smiled. "You better inform her of that. I wouldn't want to be around to face the consequences when she figures out you 'forgot' to tell her."

Julia groaned and took off down the hallway. Sydney, Marshall, and Dixon were seated at the table in the briefing room, dividing out sandwiches and chips.

"Um, Mom," Julia said, "there's… uh… conferences today. At school." She fished in her pocket and pulled out a wadded-up green piece of paper.

Sydney took it and read it slowly. "My conference is at 1:37," she said. "That's twenty-one minutes from right now. Why didn't you tell me this sooner?"

"I… forgot?"

Sydney sighed and stood up. "Come on," she said. "Let's go."


	12. God Bless and Keep You

Our Lady of the Wandering Way High School was located at the far end of a quiet street, tree-lined and wide. Sydney parked the car and opened the door, still moving stiffly. Julia followed behind her mother, backpack dangling from its loose straps.

They went up the wide granite steps quickly and entered the school. The interior was cool and dark; their footsteps echoed on the green tile floor, which was flecked with black. The classroom doors were closed and the lockers stood like silent sentinels.

At the far end of the long corridor was the principal's office. The door had a sign affixed to it, reading "Sister Mary Tobias."

"Go wait in the library," Sydney suggested to Julia, who left without saying anything.

The door to Sister Mary Tobias's office swung open and a tall nun peered out. She had a sweet face but piercing gray eyes. Like all of her order, she wore a long white skirt, a long white smock, and a black wimple. "Ms. Bristow," she said without emotion. "Please come in."

There were four other nuns in Sister Mary Tobias's office. Sydney recognized two of them – Sister Hilary Frances and Sister Scholastica Bartholemew. The other two were a student in contrasts. One was older; the other appeared to be no older than 18. The older one had very dark skin and very white teeth. The younger one was pale and wore braces.

"Ms. Bristow, allow me to introduce Sister Elizabeth Andrew and Sister Allegra Paul," Sister Mary Tobias said. "We are all here to talk to you about Julia. And frankly, we're all worried about her."

"Worried about Julia? Why?" Sydney asked. "Isn't she keeping up with her work?"

"On the contrary, Ms. Bristow," Sister Mary Tobias replied. "She has completed all of the necessary coursework for her Algebra II class, but it's not yet half-term. She spends her time in algebra class tinkering with Sister Hilary Frances's computer. And she doesn't have any girlfriends."

Sister Allegra Paul, the older of the two nuns seated on Sydney's left, nodded. "The other girls have paired off into their cliques and groups, but Julia stays by herself, reads during lunch, and refuses to talk except in class."

Sydney couldn't think of anything to say.

"We just want Julia to be happy," Sister Mary Tobias said gently. "Does she have any friends outside of school?"

Sydney knew the kind nun meant _teenage_ friends, not CIA agents and NOCRS hackers. She couldn't remember the last time Julia had gone to a friend's house or had a friend over for the night. It had been awhile. "No," she admitted softly.

Sister Scholastica Bartholomew patted Sydney's knee. "We'd like to help her make some friends here at Our Lady. There are several wonderful girls here she could pal around with."

"We have a new student joining us on Thursday," Sister Mary Tobias said. "I'm going to assign Julia the role of showing her around."

Sydney nodded.

"Julia is a very good student," Sister Mary Tobias said warmly. "We are all very proud of her. She is a good girl."

Sydney, thinking of her daughter's achievements over the weekend, could only agree. "Thank you for thinking of her," she said, standing. "You are all so good to her."

Sister Mary Tobias smiled. "Thank you for coming, Ms. Bristow. God bless and keep you."

Sydney let herself out of the office and went down the cool tiled hallway to the library. She pulled open the door. Julia was seated at the table farthest away from the door, her back to it. Her headphones were jammed down over her ears. Sydney tapped her daughter on the shoulder and was not surprised when Julia started, jumping out of the chair.

"Easy," Sydney said as Julia removed her headphones. "It's just me. We can go now."

They walked down the hallway and out into the bright afternoon. Sydney unlocked the car and looked over at Julia. "Hey."

"What?"

"I don't have to go back to work. Do you want to go somewhere else?"

Julia considered her mother's offer for a moment. "Can we get ice cream?'

Sydney smiled. "Sure."

They drove away from Our Lady of the Wandering Way and headed for the outskirts of town, stopping at a small beach. Sydney bought two vanilla ice cream cones from the closest grocery store, and they sat on the sand, staring at the waves.

"So, the nuns told me all sorts of stuff about you," Sydney said as kindly as possible. "Why didn't you tell me you don't have any friends?"

Julia opened her mouth, but no words came out. She licked her ice cream, swallowed, then said, "I have friends."

"The sisters seem to think otherwise."

Julia paused, seemingly unwilling to pursue the argument. "I just go to school there. I try to do my work and just get home as quick as I can."

"But you're so active there, in band and the French society."

"I don't fit in, Mom. I'm too smart." Julia took another lick of ice cream.

Sydney was quiet. Then she said, "Sister Mary Tobias mentioned a new student. Maybe she'll be someone you can be friends with."

"I have a friend – Finch! And Marshall, and even Mitchell is sometimes my friend. Remember when we went to the movies?"

Sydney nodded. "You had a lot of fun. I just want you to be happy."

Julia stood up. "Well, I am. Can we go home now?"


	13. Just Know It's Nothing Good

Julia was asleep when the phone rang. It rang three times before she realized no one was going to answer it, and she sat up blearily, grabbing the receiver. "Hello?"

"Julia?" someone asked.

"Yes?" she said, trying to shake off her sleepy-eyed stupor.

"This is Mariel Hemingway."

Julia suppressed a groan.

"Are you safe at your present location?"

"I… think so." Julia got out of bed and opened the door to her mother's room. "Mom?"

"She's here with us," Agent Hemingway said. "Someone is on their way to get you."

Julia's arm started to itch. Restlessly she said, "What's going on?"

"A problem with the Scrolls has been discovered," Agent Hemingway answered.

There was a knock at the apartment door.

"Open, the door, Julia," said a muffled voice from the other side. "It's me. I mean, it's Jack."

Julia went over to the door and peered through the peep-hole. It was indeed her grandfather. She opened the door cautiously. "What's going on?" she asked, turning the portable phone off.

"Get your stuff. You need to get out of here," Jack said, striding efficiently into the small apartment. "You'll be coming back with me."

Julia obediently turned and scooped up her backpack.

"Where's the bandages they gave you at the hospital? You might need them."

"They're in my bag," Julia replied. "What's going on?'

"I'll tell you more when I can," Jack said. "For now, just know it's nothing good."


	14. Did You Think You Were the Only Genius D...

Agent Hemingway was at the office when Julia and Jack arrived. With her was a squat, balding man in suspenders and an incredibly tall, slim teenage girl with chin-length light brown hair and a disdainful expression. "Good, you're safe," Agent Hemingway said briskly.

"Why wouldn't I be?" Julia asked in a tone that bordered on snide.

Agent Hemingway started, "Well, first things first, you ungrateful…"

"Mariel!" Jack snapped. "Now is not the time. Agent Freeman, please take Julia to where Agent Finch is."

The squat man moved to comply with Jack's request. Julia followed him down the hallway to the conference room she had worked in previously. Finch still sat before the monitor, fingers flying. "We intercepted a phone call from Anton Dovbroyek to Bolivar Lanu," Finch said, her fingers not pausing. "They've met to agree to ambush the French Collective to retrieve the Paschal Reader. We have to stop them. Unfortunately, the French Collective's closed for renovations and we can't get an answer there. And trying to set up remote surveillance is a bear."

"Nadia, Dixon, and Weiss are on their way to Rue Voignine as we speak," Jack continued. "If the Society of the Closed Fist gets their hands on the Paschal Reader, they'll be able to find the second set of Scrolls."

The teenage girl Julia had seen in the hallway poked her head into the conference room. "Mr. Sloane wants to know if the R-VAC is up yet," she said.

"No," Finch said. "It won't be up til maybe five-thirty."

"Okay." With that, she disappeared.

"Who's that?" Julia asked.

"Lena Hemingway. Did you think you were the only genius daughter of a CIA agent?" Finch grinned.

"She's Agent Hemingway's daughter? She seems way too nice. No, forget that. They seem exactly alike."

Finch rolled back from the computer. "Anyway, since I just hacked the French Collective's system – in _French_ – you can set up the R-VAC. I'm going to get some coffee. Don't turn on the R-VAC until you get the signal from Nadia."

"Ay, ay," Julia agreed. She slid into a seat at the computer and turned her attention to the screen. Finch rolled out of the room.

Only a short amount of time had passed before Julia heard someone else in the room. She turned around and faced Agent Hemingway's daughter. "What?"

"What are you doing?" the girl demanded.

"I'm hooking up the R-VAC," Julia replied.

Lena came into the room and took a seat at the table. "So _you're_ Agent Bristow's daughter. I've heard stories about you, Julia Irina."

"Like what?" Julia asked disinterestedly.

"Like you're the youngest hacker ever to work at NOCRS. And you were born in a Peruvian jungle while your mom was on a spy mission. And your dad's involved with the Society of the Closed Fist." Lena sat back in her chair, twirling a strand of hair around her finger.

Julia was about to ask Lena Hemingway exactly where she'd heard such scandalous stories, but Nadia's voice crackled over the com link. Julia checked her Piglet watch. It was exactly 5:30. "What is your position, Night Rider?"

"We are in position at the French Collective, Nightingale. R-VAC is in place. Awaiting your signal."

Julia typed busily, checking the camera's angle and focus. "R-VAC is a go," she said.

Nadia spoke a few words to someone else, then said, "Nightingale, the voice activation has been shut down from a remote location. We will need a switchover to manual run."

Julia groaned. The VA in R-VAC stood for "voice activated." The camera wasn't supposed to be controlled any other way. She hit a few keys and looked up at the two video monitors. "All right, Night Rider. You'll be clear for manual in twenty seconds."

As Nadia, Dixon, and Weiss waited, thousands of miles away, Julia leaned forward and switched on the joystick. She watched as the R-VAC's video monitor came to life.

"Night Rider, you are go for manual run."

"Releasing the R-VAC," Nadia said.

Julia sat up straight in her chair, forgetting Lena. She worked the joystick experimentally and found that it was operating. "Down the hall 400 yards," Nadia said.

Julia turned on the measuring parameters and drove the camera down the hall according to Nadia's specifications. When she reached the 400-yard mark, the computer beeped.

"Now turn at a 45-degree angle and proceed 20 yards." It was Dixon's voice coming over the com link, and Julia smiled. She did as he directed. "Good. Thank you."

"What now?" Julia asked.

"Now use the retrieving arm and raise it four meters. Direct it forward one meter. Close around the Paschal Reader."

Julia took a deep breath and raised the arm.

"Gentle, gentle," someone murmured. She thought it was Weiss.

She took a deep breath and pushed the joystick forward. The arm accelerated forward. She clamped it around something. There was an audible sigh of relief, and she realized Finch had come back into the room.

"Come back six meters," Dixon continued. "Sidewinder is standing by to retrieve the Reader."

Julia did as directed, and Weiss's feet appeared on the video screen. He leaned down and picked up the Reader, which was resting on the R-VAC. "Reader recovered," Weiss's muffled voice said.

"Good work. Head on back," Dixon said.

Julia shut down the R-VAC and turned to face Finch, who was smiling broadly. "I knew you could do it!" Finch exclaimed.

Jack and Sydney appeared in the doorway of the conference room, Marshall on their heels. Sydney smiled at Julia, who smiled back. Marshall rushed over to the computer system and began speaking in rapid techno-babble. "Did the R-VAC's primary algorithmic descending arm retract the -…"

"They have the Reader," Finch said, laughing.

"They're on their way home," Sydney added. "We just received confirmation of their takeoff. Good work, Julia."

Julia pushed back from the computer. "Can I have some coffee?" she asked shakily.

Finch laughed. "Yes, you can!"

Julia left the conference room and went into the break room. A plastic coffee butler sat on the counter, and she unscrewed the top and poured a bit of the brew into a coffee mug.

Without warning, Lena appeared. "Think you're pretty smart, huh?"

Sipping the coffee, Julia couldn't think of anything to say.

"Think you're something special?" Lena tried again.

Julia swallowed. "What do you want from me?"

Startled, Lena was silent.

"I'm not anything special or great or amazing. I'm just trying to help the people I love. And this is the best way I know how." Julia caught Lena staring at the scars on her arms and deftly pulled down her sleeves. "Is that it?"

Without waiting for an answer, she stormed out of the break room and back down to the conference room.


	15. Agent Vaughn is Dangerous

"You'll have to stay here overnight," Sydney said to Julia. "We've received word that your father is on the hunt again, so you won't be safe at home. Do your bandages need to be changed?"

Julia nodded. "I'll do it."

"Good girl. I would tell you to do some homework, but the sisters tell me you've already done most of it." Sydney put on her coat. "You can sleep on the couch in here. I'll come by to take you to school in the morning."

"Mom! You can't be serious. You're _leaving_ me here?"

"Marshall will be here until three," Sydney said. "There's Spaghettios in the break room."

"This is your safest place for me?"

"I'm not going to impress upon you how dangerous your father is, as you already know."

"He didn't do anything to me!" Julia cried.

"Not yet he hasn't," Sydney snapped fiercely. "But when he finds you, there isn't any reason to suggest he won't use you for his own twisted purposes."

Julia flung her hands into the air, angry but unable to figure out what she wanted to say. Then, in a fit of rage, she yelled, "If he's so horrible, why the hell did you have me?"

Sydney turned around, looking intently at her daughter's pale face. "You were _not_ a mistake," she said firmly, taking Julia's wrists in her hands. "Your father… he has not always been this way. He loves you, but his greed overshadows that right now."

Julia took a deep breath and pulled her arms away from her mother.

"Sorry," Sydney apologized quietly.

"It's okay," Julia replied, just as quietly.

"Finch offered to play some cards," Sydney said briskly, picking up her tote bag. "She and Marshall are down in the break room."

Julia wrapped her arms around herself and stared blankly at the wall. "Fine," she said noncommittally.

Sydney sighed. "I don't like this any more than you do. Please, just do this for me."

"Fine," Julia repeated.

Her mother left, and she curled up on the lumpy couch. She was so confused. She had done everything the way her mother had wanted, and she was trying to hard to make someone proud.

She sighed in disgust and got up. The rest of the offices were still bright; apparently the only agent who went home at 9:30 was her mother.

Finch and Marshall were playing canasta in the break room. Marshall's Bugs Bunny tie was askew, and Finch's red blazer had been tossed over a low ottoman.

"Julia!" Finch said pleasantly.

"Hi," Julia said morosely, standing in the doorway.

"Weiss called," Marshall related. "They'll be here in an hour." He threw in a card.

Finch frowned, then moved her chair back from the table, gesturing to the plastic chair next to her. Julia sat dutifully as Finch wheeled over to the counter to grab a muffin. Marshall considered his hand. Finch broke off part of the muffin and chewed thoughtfully. "Julia, honey, what's wrong?" she asked, rolling back up to the table. She picked up her hand.

"Mom, and Dad, and Lena, and…" Julia trailed off, frustrated. "I do what they tell me to but it's never enough. I want to know my dad for who he really is, not as some renegade spy. I want to make them proud of me."

"They _are_ proud of you," Finch said. "And as for your father, when he is captured by the CIA, he will see that he was fighting for the wrong side."

"Uh, Finch?" Marshall asked tentatively. "Could you… uh.. play a card or something?"

Finch threw in a king. "You _will_ be able to know your father. But you need some sleep. You've got school tomorrow."

Julia smiled and hugged her hacking buddy. She went around the table, hugged Marshall, then left the break room.

She passed by a few empty offices as she headed for her mother's small quarters. As she passed Sloane's office, she was surprised to hear two people arguing – Sloane and Agent Hemingway.

"We have no idea as to determine if she is dangerous, Mr. Sloane," Agent Hemingway was saying. "And pardon my saying so, sir, but until Michael Vaughn is captured we have no way of knowing."

"I understand, Mariel," Sloane replied easily. "It is, to the best of my knowledge, still a fact that she is not working for them."

Julia pressed her back to the wall as Agent Hemingway continued, "Until operative Vaughn is brought down, none of us can sleep safely."

Sloane didn't say anything for a few seconds. When he spoke, Julia could clearly hear every word he said, as though he was standing next to her. "Agent Vaughn is dangerous, possibly brainwashed. I'm not sure what kind of recovery we can expect him to make if and when he is captured."

Julia sighed and walked away from Sloane's office, down to the end of the hall. She opened the door to her mother's office and let it click shut behind her. She went over to the couch and curled up in a ball. She only had time to wonder where her father was before she fell asleep.


	16. What Have You Done With Her?

Sydney sat alone on the couch, staring out the window, a glass of white wine in her hand. It had started to rain only a few minutes ago. On the table in front of her were various case files and a large photo album. Julia had been rummaging through the book, looking for pictures for a family tree project. Her unfinished poster board was spread out on the dining room table.

The phone rang but Sydney didn't move. It would stop ringing, she supposed. She didn't get up. She didn't want to break her train of thought.

Under her bed were three large plastic tubs filled with letters and pictures and Julia's school papers and mementos and souvenirs. They compiled everything she wanted to give to Michael, all of Julia's sixteen years, and he had missed it. He had only seen her five times, well, no, six times if you counted his Polish rescue. It had been his decision, not hers. Se had gone along with his plan.

"I'm not ready to be her father!" he had shouted on her second birthday. "I can't be good to her!"

She hadn't even tried to make him understand what a good person he was, how good he could be if he tried. For some reason he didn't see what she did, and she somehow didn't have the heart to fight with him. She loved him too much, and maybe that was part of the problem.

She took another sip of wine, then set the glass on the table. Now wasn't the time to get overly confident, to let her guard slip. She was frightened that Julia would see her this way and lose her own nerve, which was so critically important.

She took the glass into the kitchen and left it on the counter, which was littered with mail. The phone rang again as she ran hot water over the dishes in the sink. She sighed and picked it up. "Hello?"

"Hello," said a very familiar voice.

Sydney's breath caught in her chest. "What do you want?"

"I know you think she's safe," Vaughn said. "And I'd like to tell you that's the truth. But I'm not very good at lying."

"What the hell are you talking about?" Sydney demanded. "What have you done with her?"

"Nothing yet," Vaughn admitted. "But just know that you can move her wherever you want, but we'll still find her."

Sydney hung up the phone, shaking. She clutched the receiver for a moment as though it could prevent her from falling into the horrible darkness which threatened to eat her alive. Julia wasn't safe.


	17. Julia Forgot Her Backpack

She hurried into the office, nearly knocking over Agent Brockmann, who had been running through the hall with a cup of coffee in his hand. "Sorry, Agent Bristow!" He managed to say.

Sydney burst into her office. It was empty.

"Who are you looking for?" someone said from behind her.

"Julia," Sydney said slowly, turning around.

He was maybe thirty-five, olive-skinned, dark-eyed, with a chiseled face and a scruff of goatee. Sydney had never seen him before. He saw her apprehension and smiled. "Rock," he said.

"Excuse me?"

"Angus Rock. NOCRS."

"Oh. You're Finch's friend." Sydney sighed, glad he wasn't a kidnapper. "Where's my daughter?"

"She and Aimee are writing code in Marshall's office."

Sydney turned, brushing past him, and went down the short hallway to Marshall's office. Finch sat before the computer, typing busily. Julia was stretched out on the floor, sprawled across two floor pillows, fast asleep.

"Hi," Finch whispered. "What's going on?"

"We've got to move her," Sydney whispered in reply.

Finch nodded, as though she had been expecting this response. "Where?"

"As far as they can take her."

Jack appeared in the door. "Dr. Gupta is ready, Sydney."

A tall Indian man stood behind Jack, a leather doctor's bag in his hands. He nodded to Jack, then set his kit on a desk and opened it.

"This is for her own good," Jack murmured to Sydney.

Sydney nodded. She knew it, but it was still painful.

Dr. Gupta took out a large syringe and filled it from a glass bottle. He injected it gently into Julia's upper arm. Her eyes flickered briefly, but she did not awaken. Then Dr. Gupta took out a pneumatic injection gun. He placed it against Julia's neck and fired it. The girl's body shook, and her eyes opened. "Mom?" she said blearily, her eyes clouding over as she spoke. Her body went slack suddenly. Sydney and Jack caught her before her head hit the floor.

Dr. Gupta nodded. "The tracer will be up and running in a half hour. She'll stay asleep for six to eight hours, but she'll feel pretty limp when she wakes up. She won't regain full motor control for ten hours."

"Let's go," Jack said. "The truck is ready." He motioned to Rock, who was standing in the doorway. The man scooped up Julia and carried her from the room. Sydney and Jack followed.

At the back of the office complex, a large ambulance-like truck was waiting, parked with its back doors facing the exit doors of the complex. A uniformed man opened the back doors and helped Rock lay Julia on a stretcher. Sydney squeezed Julia's hand, then the paramedic closed the door and the truck was gone.

"It's best if you don't know her location until the tracer kicks in," Jack said crisply, heading back into the office.

Weiss and Nadia were in the break room when Sydney reentered the brightly lit office wing. She poured herself a cup of coffee and sat down next to Nadia, who smiled reassuringly. "My father told us about Julia," she said to Sydney. "She'll be all right."

Marshall came flying through the break room door. "Hey!" he managed to gasp. "Julia forgot her backpack! And.. uh… there's a malfunction with the tracer."

"A malfunction?" Sydney asked.

Marshall nodded. "It's not even supposed to be up yet, but it shows her location as somewhere over Anteca, New Mexico."

"Did somebody hack it?"

"Can't," Marshall said. "It can't be hacked or changed except by me. And I didn't do anything to it."

"Then she's really in New Mexico," Weiss said.

"What's in New Mexico?"

"A local cell of the Society of the Closed Fist," Marshall blurted.

"What?" Sydney and Nadia said as one. "Get a hold of Jack," Nadia continued. "We'll need to get a team out to Julia's location as soon as they land."

Marshall nodded and ran out of the room.


	18. You DO Look Just Like Your Mother

Julia awoke to find herself strapped to a chair. There was a heavy strap around her chest and one around her head. Two went around her arms, one around her stomach, and one around her legs. Her body felt limp and she resisted the urge to vomit. She tried to move her hand but found that her fingers would not respond to her commands. Her fingers were curled under her palm. Her head threatened to tip forward, but for the strap restraining her.

A light snapped on and Julia instinctively flinched. Her head went back against the back of the chair, hard, and the cried out in pain.

Someone approached her, blotted out by the bright light. "Hello, love," he said, and a hand gently brushed hers. "We've been waiting for you."

"Dad?" Julia asked.

"And now that you're here," he continued, "we've got to make sure you don't run off."

Julia didn't feel up to running anywhere. She frowned at whoever was speaking.

"This should help," said the someone. The light dimmed, and Julia was staring at her father. He smiled at her. "Hello, honey."

Julia tried to speak but her mouth wouldn't work. She leaned back against the chair, feeling her body go slack. Then someone was behind her, taking her hair in their hands and braiding it gently.

"Say hello, Julia," her father said. "Wouldn't want to be rude, would you?"

Julia opened her mouth as the second someone stepped around the front of the chair. She had to try hard to muster the one word she spat out. "Irina."

"That's right, love. My, you _do_ look just like your mother," Irina said. She gently stroked Julia's dark hair. "Doesn't she just seem to be the spitting image of Sydney, Michael? A little Bristow." To Julia she said, "Technically you've got the best of everything, sweetheart. You're Derevko and Vaughn, too." She stood and walked away from the chair.

"What now?" Vaughn asked.

"Get the supplies, I guess," Irina answered. "Anton will be here any minute and we don't have much time. They'll be right on her trail."

Vaughn moved out of the circle of light and towards a table dimly lit by a camping lantern. He began to gather mesh baskets, which he set next to Julia' s feet. Irina reappeared, carrying a blanket-wrapped bundle.

By this time Julia was regaining feeling in her hands. She clenched her fingers and made a tight fist, then relaxed.

A door slammed open. Julia flinched back against the chair. A tall, portly man with a neatly waxed dark black mustache strode into the room. He stopped directly in front of Julia. "Not much of a prize, eh?" he said in badly accented English.

"Here," Irina said, and handed him a vial filled with dark green liquid.

"Anton," Julia managed to spit.

"Ha-ha!" the man laughed. "A winner, I see." In Russian, obviously not thinking Julia would understand, he said, "Is she ready? None of this will be worth this if she's not ready."

"Oh, stop worrying, Anton," Irina snapped in Russian.

"It doesn't work; she can understand you!" Vaughn said loudly in English.

The others turned to regard Julia. Anton tossed the vial from hand to hand nervously. "Ah," he said. "Well, do not delay, start! Start, Irina!" He clapped his hands together impatiently.

"Hold her arm," Irina directed Vaughn, who moved quickly to do so. Julia struggled against her father's hands, which were large, cold, and rough.

Irina took the vial from Anton and poured the liquid into a small plastic dish. Julia closed her eyes. She could hear her grandmother breathing slowly, rhythmically. She took a deep breath and held it, like a swimmer going under.

"There," Anton said a few seconds later, as something cold pressed against Julia's arm. "It is perfect."

Julia opened her eyes to see a green star, dripping on her arm. "Is it…" she struggled to speak, "… permanent?"

"Of course!" Anton guffawed loudly. "Though it is a pity your arms are so… scarred."

"Mom," Julia said.

"Don't worry, she'll see you soon," Irina said gently. "She won't be mad; we'll tell her about the plan."

Vaughn came over to Julia and moved to brush her hair away from her eyes. "You're so beautiful," he said.

"Thank you," Julia said angrily, turning her head away from her father.

Irina had turned to Anton and they were talking in low tones. Anton clapped his hands quickly, three times. He seemed excited about something. "_Da, da_," he said. "Perfect."

"Let's go," Vaughn said, untying the ropes binding Julia. Her body went slack and she fell forward, her father catching her just in time. "I'll help you," he offered, putting his hands under her arms and pulling her out of the chair. She pulled her arms away and flopped to the floor, ashamed and angry at her traitorous body.

Irina stepped over to where her granddaughter was lying on the floor and gently helped the girl up. "It's all right. Here, let me help you."

They took Julia out in the rain to a black minivan. There were two people already in the van – a skinny, artistic-looking young man with a pierced lip and eyebrow and tousled black hair, and a supremely beautiful woman with hair like a waterfall of corn silk.

Irina addressed them. "Alex, Quinn, this is Julia. She is to be taken to the Second House in Anteca. She is _not_ to be harmed. We'll follow you in the truck."

The young man nodded and moved to twist the key in the ignition. The woman smiled, if a bit eerily, at Julia. Her teeth were perfectly even and very white. Julia thought they looked like little mints. "We'll take care of her," Alex said. He, too, smiled at Julia.

Irina buckled Julia into the van and slammed the door. Alex threw the van into gear. "We've been waiting a long time for you," he said. "Now that you've got the Mark, we can tell you everything about the Society."

Julia's arms had regained most of their motion. She made a fist. "Well, I don't…. care."

"You will. Your dad told us how smart you are and how much you like computers. You can help us. We'll introduce you to Hector, he's our genius with computers," Alex continued, sounding like an eager puppy.

"Hush, Alex," Quinn said, placing her slim hand on his arm.

He turned out of a long driveway and onto a dirt road, made muddy with the rain. Trees were thick and overhanging, creating the feeling of an oppressive canopy. The rain dripped down on the van and oozed into the ground, creating huger puddles.

They drove for at least twenty minutes. Julia forgot to count the time it took. Quinn and Alex didn't talk, but she could tell Alex wanted to. He drove on in silence, though, eventually turning down a cobblestone lane. At the far end of the lane was a red barn with a bright green door. Alex pulled the van next to a small blue Mitsubishi. "Welcome," he said dramatically, "to the home of the Society of the Closed Fist."

Julia closed her eyes. They couldn't make her see something if she didn't want to.


	19. Pace and Turn, Pace and Turn

Sydney paced nervously. Weiss, Dixon, and Nadia had left on their way to the small town of Anteca, New Mexico. Jack and Sloane were monitoring their progress in the general conference room, and Marshall and Finch were keeping a vigil over Julia's tracer, but she couldn't bring herself to do anything but pace and turn, pace and turn.

Someone entered the room as she was mid-pace. Turning, she saw it was Finch.

"Brought you some coffee," Finch said in the kind of voice that left no room for argument. She put the white ceramic mug on the table and both she and Sydney stared at it for what seemed like a very long time. Then Sydney picked it up and drank the warm brew slowly.

"They'll get her back," Finch said optimistically. "If there's one thing I know about Julia, it's that she's a fighter. She won't give up. They'll find her."

Sydney smiled gratefully at the younger woman, who leaned back in her wheelchair. "I know they will."

"The wait's hard," Finch said knowingly. "I remember once, a hostage situation in France. It seemed like hours before anyone came for me, but it was maybe an hour at most."

Sydney took another sip of coffee.

Marshall came in. "They've landed in Anteca," he reported. "They'll be to Julia's location within twenty minutes."

Finch turned to look at him. "Great. That's great news."

Sydney tried to smile at Marshall, but she couldn't. She was far too upset. Despite her faith in Nadia, Dixon, and Weiss, she knew as well as anyone that they hard their weaknesses. And they weren't dealing with ordinary folks, either. The Society of the Closed Fist's members were all ex-military, ex-black ops, or trained in espionage. They were all highly skilled professionals.

But then again, she thought, so was Julia.


	20. No Time for Monkey Business

Julia's eyes snapped open as a dash of cold water hit her in the face. She glared angrily at Alex, who had been the one throwing the water. "Let's go," he said. "No time for monkey business."

He forced Julia through the door of the barn. Two men were seated at a battered card table, playing cards. An additional man sat in front of a computer at the far end of the barn. A petite woman with a dark pageboy sat next to him.

"David, McClelland, Hector, Anne!" Alex said broadly. "This is Julia."

"Hey," everyone said at once.

Hector, a squat Hispanic man who just happened to be the one seated before the computer, came over to Julia and said, "We've been waiting for you. Come with me."

The barn door opened and Irina and Vaughn came in. "Now that we're here," Vaughn said, "Hector, you show Julia our hacking protocol, okay? The rest of us will get ready for the Grosvenor-Prudhomme mission."

"Freeze!" someone shouted suddenly, and whirling, Julia saw that it was Weiss. "Hands in the air!" he bellowed.

The Society of the Closed Fist agents did as they were told. The two men dropped their guns. Hector reluctantly let go of Julia's arm.

"Julia, come here," Nadia said, keeping her gun trained on Irina and Vaughn. Julia did as she asked. "The rest of you, on your knees!"

Several agents flocked in to cuff the members of the Society of the Closed Fist. Julia took a deep breath and put her hands to her face, simply overwhelmed by the events of the day.


	21. You Know, for Moral Support

"Don't wake her," Weiss cautioned Sydney as he laid Julia on the couch in her office. "She only fell asleep the last part of the ride."

"What's that on her arm?"

"It's called 'the Mark,'" Weiss replied. "I think it'll come off."

Sydney looked down at her beloved daughter, then back at Weiss. "Where are they keeping Mom and Vaughn?"

"A cell over at the Rotunda. You could probably go see them. Director Chase would probably let you in."

"I just want to ask him what the hell he was thinking, kidnapping her."

Weiss was quiet for a moment. Sydney looked at him, thoughtful. "You could come with me. You know, for moral support."

He smiled, if a bit sadly. "He was my best friend, you know."

"Yeah, I know." She thought for a moment. "I guess I've got to go."

And with that, she left, leaving Weiss alone with Julia. He watched the girl breathe for a few moments; then, confident she wasn't going anywhere, he left as well, softly closing the door.


	22. And That's Why It Hurts

At this hour of the night, the Rotunda was fairly deserted. Sydney, sweeping her hair out of her face, marched up to the first person she saw. "Agent Sydney Bristow, requesting to see prisoners Derevko and Vaughn."

The man she had spoken to turned. "Agent Bristow, we've been expecting you. I'm Agent David Reyes."

He led Sydney down a steep flight of steps and through a barred gate. At the foot of the steps was a guard station. A female guard was on duty. Agent Reyes spoke briefly to her, the motioned to Sydney. "Monica will take you to then."

Monica stood, pushed in her chair, and exited to the right of the guard station. Sydney followed her. Monica pressed her hand to a biometric scanner and the gates slowly rolled up. Sydney stepped through. Monica nodded, then gestured to the cell on her right. Sydney turned, and was face-to-face with Vaughn.

"Miss me?" he asked, almost comically. "I missed you."

"No, you didn't. If you missed me, you would have come home instead of running off to Peru."

"Straight shot to the heart, no messing around for this girl."

"What did you to do Julia?"

"Ah, Julia. She's so beautiful, Syd…"

"You may address me as Agent Bristow," she said frostily.

"She's so beautiful. You must have raised her right. What I wouldn't give to be able to call myself her father."

"If you'd stuck around…" Sydney started, but didn't bother to finish her sentence.

"I know, I know, blame it on my lack of experience and lack of desire to parent someone."

"You certainly never questioned _my_ desireto parent. I guess you just assumed I had it."

"Look, Syd, I know I've screwed up. I know that. God, I should have never left the AOCJ."

"Why _did_ you live the AOCJ?"

"All the usual reasons – money, power, fame. You should have heard the things Anton Dovbroyek promises. God, it was going to be good. And Julia could have helped us get it."

"You will not use my daughter for your insidious purposes."

"She's my daughter too!"

"_Not anymore_," Sydney said fiercely. "You gave up that right a long time ago. Do you know what her favorite song is? No, you don't. Do you know when her birthday is?"

"May 9," Vaughn said, surprising both of them.

"You weren't there for her when her first best friend moved away. You weren't there for her when a boy broke her heart. You weren't there for her after the fire. You're not her father anymore. If we're comparing father figures, _Sloane_ is better than you."

"Don't say that."

"It's true, and that's why it hurts. I have nothing else to say to you."

Sydney turned and said to the guard, "I'm finished with the prisoner."

"Please, Syd, let her come see me. Please."

"That's a decision Julia will have to make herself."

The gate rolled up, and she was gone.


	23. I Hate Death of a Salesman

Thursday morning, Julia got up, albeit stiffly, and went to school. There was nothing she'd like any less, but she knew that staying in a routine would help her to forget about being kidnapped.

Sister Mary Tobias met her at the door. "Julia! I'm very pleased to see you. I was hoping you'd be here today. We have a new student, and I've assigned you to show her around."

"Gee, Sister, that's nice of you." Julia mentally grimaced.

"Her name is Emilie Rochester. She transferred here from the Wadman Institute of Fine Arts in Chicago."

Julia and the nun rounded the corner into the library. A girl was standing there, waiting. She was very, very tall, with pink hair. Julia had to smile. "Hi!" she managed tos pit out.

"Hi," the girl said. "Julia, right?"

"Rights. Emilie, right?"

"Right!" Both girls smiled at each other.

"Well," Sister Mary Tobias said, "I'll let you two get to class."

"You're going to hate it here," Julia confessed to Emilie as soon as they were out of earshot of the nun. "Everybody's so stuck up."

"What about the band?"

"Band may be the one saving grace this place has. What do you play?"

"Clarinet."

"Oh, that's good. The flute section leader hates when anyone new joins."

They had reached room B-12, Sister Hannah Christopher's English class. "We're reading _Death of a Salesman," _Julia said as the bell rang.

"I hate_ Death of a Salesman_."

"So does everyone here."

They entered the classroom and found twenty pairs of eyes staring at them. Sister Hannah Christopher was writing on the board, but she, too, turned to take in the newcomers.

"Sister Hannah Christopher, this is Emilie Rochester."

One of the girls in the front row cracked her gum and said sarcastically, "Nice hair."

"Thanks!" Emilie replied brightly.

Julia smiled at her newfound ally, then dropped into her seat. As she opened her canvas knapsack, something fell out. Hurriedly scooping it up, she saw that it was small and wrapped in tightly bound black felt. Under her desk, she carefully undid the leather thongs binding it and something small and metallic fell out into her hand. There was a piece of paper rolled tightly inside of a metal ring.

"Julia, would you like to discuss your theory about Willy Loman's death?" Sister Hannah Christopher asked suddenly, and guiltily Julia shoved her hands, and the mysterious gift, under her desk.

"Uh…" Julia said, not quite knowing how to answer. "Oh. Uh, Willy feels as though his life is not worth living because he is a friendless job man with nothing to live for but his job, and even that's in the toilet. It makes sense that he kills himself."

"I see," said Sister Hannah Christopher. "Thank you."

She moved onto someone else, another question, and Julia reexamined the gift under the desk. She carefully unrolled the piece of paper and read.


	24. Where Now?

The letter read: "You must tell no one about the words you read here. All information is property of the American Office of Civil Justice under the classifications D-17 and A-45, as well as the Smothers Act of 2004."

Julia took a deep breath. Whatever this was, it was big.

"Your help is desperately needed. Two operatives of the AOCJ have already been captured. Agent 17749, Michael Vaughn, and Agent 16442, Irina Derevko, have been apprehended for their undercover work with the Society of the Closed Fist."

So her father and Irina _were_ undercover! Her father wasn't really evil!

"If you agree to help with this operation, collectively known under the title Operation Dragon Fire, you need to report to the Rotunda no later than 4 p.m. today. Come alone. Bring this official letter and the ring as proof.

"Sincerely, Dan Keelman, Officiating Director of the AOCJ."

Julia looked up. Emilie was staring at her. Julia smiled, trying to offset the varied range of feelings stewing inside her. Gently she tipped the ring into her palm. It was heavy, and gold, and engraved with the symbol Julia had come to know as that of Rambaldi. She slid it onto her thumb. It fit, oddly enough.

The bell rang and the class emptied. "Where now?" Emilie asked Julia.

"Um… what? Sorry, I just… I have to go somewhere."

"You're really trying to get out of showing me around, aren't you?" Emilie quipped with a grin.

"No, I'm really sorry…" Julia paused. "Do you want to come with me?"

"You're asking me to skip school on my first day here?"

"I guess so."

"Well then, I guess I accept."


End file.
